


In the Days Before

by Falke



Series: A Call in the High Country [1]
Category: Zootopia (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Fantasy, Gen, Major Original Character(s), Swords & Sorcery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-16
Updated: 2019-02-20
Packaged: 2019-10-11 00:38:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17436527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Falke/pseuds/Falke
Summary: This power should not be.It is as simple as that. Until it called to me, I had only ever heard whispers of this magic, in the mountains where life fled. They say where it flows freely, mammals inevitably fade.And so I fear all in this fair country will hear its deadly siren song, if I do not act. Is their fate already sealed, as mine is? It hardly bears contemplating.I must draw it back down here, to return it to the earth in this sacred place. If nothing else it is better to try, than to remain and witness the horrors it may unleash.Should this message survive, and any to read it - forgive what I have done here. I can see no other course.- from the last writings of High Mage Macquet, recovered by Sedgewick of the River Tribes





	1. prologue - Nicholas

The Burrow End Inn was always a smoky, cramped affair, but when the weather turned it became nearly as claustrophobic as the Watch Haven's cells - and about as dangerous, too. Jalis tended to tolerate the rougher characters of the village. At least until they caused trouble.

Not that Nicholas Wilde had any intention of starting it. He was actually in the innkeep's better graces for once, thanks to the bit of distraction he'd furnished the last time the Watch had intercepted one of Jalis' more... technically legal shipments at the gate. Now he was banking on that lenience to stay in the vaulted hall tonight, out of the cold.

It was as good a time as any to call the favor in. Nicholas preferred to keep them for those rare cases of life-or-death threats, but in the end he supposed this one qualified. With the sun down it was almost too cold for new snow, and while he could probably keep an eye open for the Watch and keep from freezing to death at the same time, staying indoors would certainly make it easier. Besides, the less they saw of him, the sooner they'd go back to chasing some other minor irritant.

All of the good spots were taken, of course. Nicholas slipped between bench seats full of smiths and farmers, pheasant-hunting parties of wolves and musclebound rhinos taking a break from dock work. He wouldn't make it near any of the roaring hearths. But that suited him fine. He wanted a quiet corner where he could wait out the storm. His thick cloak would soak up plenty of the ambient heat.

This spot would do. It was out of the footpaths, overlooking a ring of sunken booths that ran around a great crackling fire pit. He could sit against the stone, maybe munch on the fish he'd liberated earlier, and hopefully be ignored until the sun rose again.

Of course, this was the exact moment he decided to turn his sharp ears to the conversation buzzing around him - and the exact moment that comfortable plan went to dust.

"...And with the river to the north? It's all getting worse. Willow Vale will be next, you mark my words."

_Willow Vale._ Nicholas knew the next village over well: it was the best place to go when the Watch started paying too much attention to his scams and schemes here. He didn't like hearing that something might have changed that status quo.

Now his curiosity was piqued. He made a practiced, careful show of total ignorance, in case anyone down there happened to be looking up into the shadows, and concentrated. Nobody need see him, if he did this right. They wouldn't worry about what they couldn't focus on.

When he was satisfied, he leaned out to watch and listen.

Four mammals clustered in the sunken booth below him, huddled to the roaring flames. A skinny rat was leaning forward on the table, across from an old bobcat and two of the largest boars Nicholas had ever seen.

It was Briar and her thugs, the closest thing to organized crime in Morrigan's Ford. He kept especially still now, and wondered darkly why Jalis had let them in here. Breaking contraband out of hack might as well have made him one of the Junior Rangers, compared to what this crew got up to. They were about one whisker shy of actual banditry. If they so much as mentioned one of the clans, Nicholas was sure the Watch would throw the lot of them in the stocks.

"That's too far for us to care," one of the boars rumbled. He scoffed. "Let the Reds have it. Rowboats and farm tools."

"I'm not talking about bandits and their territory squabbles, you moron." The rat sneered at him. "This is about-" he stopped and looked around again, lowering his voice so Nicholas could barely hear it over the hearth. " _Unbound magic._ They say there's an awful storm growing, over an old haven in the high country. And I don't-"

Nicholas blinked, and nearly lost his concentration. Surely not.

The other boar snorted and tossed his tusks. "You believe every stupid word out of Sette's muzzle, don't you?"

"It's no matter," Briar's raspy voice cut him off. "The fact is if the Watch is busy running around after whispers like that, there won't be as many here where it matters."

The first boar nodded. "Even with the new shipments coming in-"

Briar silenced him with a glare. Nicholas would have rolled his eyes, had he not been carefully checking his movements. Instead he eased back into the shadows and leaned against the warm stone to relax and think.

So Briar's gang had some smash-and-grab in the works down at the docks. Fine. He would avoid that easily. No, the concerning thing was whatever that had been about wilds magic. That was a new one, and probably worth breaking his careful rules and checking out himself, just in case. He'd heard the stories, of course. Magic without a master. But they had all been like legends, or bedtime stories to frighten kits underneath their covers. This seemed different. New.

Nicholas clicked his teeth. If there was one thing he knew about _new_ , it was that it was dangerous. This time, new was making his gut churn. The only thing worse than mixing up with trouble would be stumbling into it unawares and unprepared.

This next part, he wasn't looking forward to, either. He ought to set out now. Even if it meant leaving the warmth behind.

He wasn't expecting the help getting to his feet.

The boar hauled him all the way up off the ground by the cloak lapels and slammed him back against the column. Nicholas blinked, more surprised than scared. It wasn't often mammals got such a drop on him.

But his stomach started to sink again when Briar stepped around from behind the boar to scowl at him. This was just what he needed.

_"Nicholas Wilde."_ Her hackles were up. "Who let you in here?"

"I'd ask you the same thing, if I didn't risk getting gutted for it," he managed. Where was the other one? Around on the other side of the column, probably, keeping watch to make sure nobody interrupted the little discussion. Nicholas sometimes wished he was the only competent troublemaker.

He made to move, and Briar rumbled a warning.

"Keep those mind-fuzzing paws to yourself. I have no patience for games tonight."

"That only works on the more simple-minded," Nicholas lied. He looked at the specimen holding him up and carefully held his paws where they could all see them. "Maybe warn your friend here."

The boar lowered his tusks.

_"Enough,"_ Briar snapped. "What did you hear, Wilde?"

"Do you really think I have any interest tangling up in whatever you're planning?" Nicholas asked.

"I can't imagine so." Her eyes narrowed and she leaned close. "Seeing as you're a coward as red as your tail."

Nicholas flattened gracious ears. "You know me so well."

"Yes, I do. But it certainly doesn't hurt to be careful these days. So." She bared her fangs in a wicked grin and turned, so he could see the sharpened stake she held at her waist, ready to ram home beneath his ribs. "What did you hear?"

Nicholas swallowed. He would have to play this carefully. Briar knew all about his silver tongue, and his other abilities besides. And she would know he had heard enough to be dangerous.

"Baseless chatter." He slid his gaze from her to the hulking boar again, wishing he could project a little more conviction. "Because who takes rumors of bandits seriously? And this is assuming I gave the Council Watch any reason to be able to overhear ravings like that in the first place. Believe me when I say I have less painful things to do."

"Good answer," Briar purred. The stake disappeared with a flick of her paws, as if she had absorbed his own talents for magicking things away. "See that it doesn't change, Wilde. I'd hate to gut such a useful distraction."

The double meaning was crystal clear. Nobody need mention magic. Not that Nicholas planned to breathe a word of that to anyone.

She clicked her claws and the boar let Nicholas go with one last shove. They turned and blended into the crowd, and they were gone. He was alone next to the roaring fire.

Feeling very cold indeed.


	2. prologue - Judith

The snow had fallen overnight and was still coming down, drifting into great sweeps on the ground and loading the evergreens that covered this whole hillside with a heavy blanket of white. It brightened the forest and muffled the sound of all passage.

Sentinel Judith Hopps would have slowed down to take in that surreal absence, but she was already falling behind. The snow was almost a foot deep in places, and she had to keep up with the longer-legged Betner and Elias. She picked up her feet to catch up - and to stay warm.

She and the moose and the marten were pushing through the southern edge of the forest, looking for the freehold buildings the map said were back in the trees. There was a river nearby, and somewhere on its last great bend was a mill where mammals brought their timber to trim into logs and float downstream to the village.

Now, the Council Watch needed to find it, in case trouble had started there, too.

"This would be easier if we could tell up from down," Elias grumbled. He paused to rub his paws together. His breath misted over them. "The snow is even hiding the sun. For all we know we've been walking in circles."

"We're not," Betner told him. "We haven't found the river yet, so we must still be going north. Don't even need a compass to know that." He glanced down as Judith joined them. "Keeping up, Hopps?"

"Of course," she panted. She wasn't about to ask for them to slow down, either, even if the snow came up to her waist and she had to use her glaive like a trekking pole for balance. It was bad enough that the other Sentinels already had to look down to see her, or smirked at her specially-made pauldrons and cuirass. "If we climbed out of the gully we could see further."

"I'd rather not climb up just to have to get back down." Betner shook his head. "Not with the risk of watchers in the treeline. We know the mill is going to be on low ground. We'll try over there where the trees are thinner."

Elias sighed and started to shove through the snow again, his feet making the odd crumping noise as they compressed the flakes. Judith kept her mouth shut and followed. Betner was her superior, and probably had more tactical insight than she did to boot. It made sense, that they might not want to announce their presence until they had to. Especially if the rumors were true.

Word had first come from the Keep weeks ago: something had changed, out in the forest. Some mage had consolidated power over the squabbling bandits, perhaps, or maybe they were on the search for some weapon or tool they thought might give them an edge over the peacekeepers of the Council Watch. Whatever it was, it had pushed them the boldest lengths anyone could ever remember seeing. They were on the move.

Some of the Watch muttered about new magic, over the night's campfires, like the powers that surged through the earth in the stuff of legend. Judith would have dismissed that out of paw, had some of the mammals they brought in not seemed almost scared to talk about the possibility. In her limited experience, anything that spooked the fringe was worth at least taking seriously.

The leadership did dismiss it, though. There wasn't evidence. And without it, Fangmire had barked at them all one night, they were to focus on what they knew and what they saw. Things were already too fraught to waste time on rumors.

Because bandits were supposed to be opportunists, and more importantly cowards. They had never gone on the march before. They almost never struck at territory, or fought rearguard actions when they were challenged doing it. The Council Watch had not anticipated organized resistance, and that complacency had made it slow to counter the threat. In the time it had taken Judith and the other peacekeepers to absorb the implications of these new tactics, two villages had fallen to ransack or ruin.

And even now Judith had barely seen the perpetrators. Until recently only the signs of their presence were apparent - shattered windows and a burned-down farmhouse in the village to the east, and looted homes and shops. The medics had treated some of the farmers for nasty injuries, when they'd dared stand up to the lawbreakers. Only yesterday had the Watch staged its raids against the commandeered inn, to arrest those few bandits that didn't flee back into the deep trees. There had been mages among them, predators with unpredictable talents that made opening each door a gamble.

Now Judith was more anxious than most to put an end to it, before the marauders could firm up any more of a hold in the wild territory out here. But that meant she and the rest had to be in the right place in the right time. Snow or no snow, she was happy to try until it worked.

And in the next moments their trek paid off. They came to the crest of the low hill and saw the steel grey river spread out before them. The water was too deep to freeze completely, even in the dead of winter. Chunks of ice bumped through the sluggish current and collected near the banks like miniature bergs. At the cleared bank on the far side, across a narrow wooden bridge, sat a gabled millhouse, its water wheel turning lazily. Smoke drifted from its chimney.

Betner held out a hoof so they would stop their advance. "Carefully now." His eyes were on the far treeline, not the building itself. "Elias?"

The marten closed his eyes and tilted his head into the wind. Judith held her breath.

"Three," Elias said. "No more."

"What about the forest?" Judith asked. She had noted her officer's attention.

"It's too far to tell." Elias shook his head. "Would you be out in this cold, though?"

Betner's snort fogged around his head. "I would rather not assume," he said. "That's what's put us in this mess in the first place, remember. We'll cross and investigate the yard first. Keep it quiet until I say so."

They picked their way down to the shore and started onto the bridge. Judith stayed in the middle, her eyes on her icy footing to prevent a dangerous fall, but her ears on the rhythmic creak and slosh of the water wheel. It seemed to be the only sound. That was odd. Even in the cold months, a mill like this should have rang with sawing or hammering, or the raised voices of a work crew.

But the yard was deserted and, as Betner indicated with a silent wave of his hoof, had been that way for some time. There were no tracks in the fresh snow. A fair cap of powder had built up over the stacks of newly felled logs across the way.

Even the adjoined barn was mostly closed up - Judith saw that only one side door was ajar, and the drift of snow working its way into the building showed it might have been the wind that did it. The interior was unlit. Through the gap Judith could see shadowy stacks of crates, and a ladder in the center that seemed to lead down into a cellar.

Betner stood in the center of the clearing and called out.

"Ho, inside! The Council Watch calls."

Nothing. A flicker in the light from one of the second-floor windows above them, perhaps, but no response. Judith felt the unease crawling in her gut. From here she could smell the smoke of the stove inside. Someone would have tended it, but where were they? The storm wasn't fierce enough to have to hide from.

Elias was watching Betner's back, and shook his head again when the moose looked down at him. "Still three."

"Inside?"

"Yes."

"Then let's find a way in. Hopps, stay behind me."

Normally Judith would have rankled at being so bluntly dismissed, but even to her this felt all wrong. It made sense that the largest of them be the first inside, to meet whatever waited. Three mammals, Elias had said. But even his sensitivity couldn't tell them if they were a trio of sleeping woodworkers, or armed bandit wolves.

So she followed along, her glaive ready to paw in the rearguard pattern that she had learned in training, and they approached the front door. It was latched, but not locked. Betner pushed it open.

Inside the main work floor was warm and bright with yellow firelight, but it was as deserted as the yard. Lumber and tools sat in orderly rows, as if their minders were just out to lunch. Judith heard the deep creak and thump of the water wheel, turning some great axle below them, but no footsteps, no shout of recognition or aggression.

"Two below," Elias murmured. His sword, too, was at the ready. "And one above."

"Hopps, go up and get them," Betner said. He ducked his antlers underneath the mid-scale tools hanging from the rafters and turned to them. "You, too, Elias. I won't have room to maneuver up there."

Judith swallowed and nodded. She checked to make sure her shackles were still in the pouch on her belt and got a firm grip on her polearm.

Up the curved stairs, the second floor was a cramped loft. A short hallway led down to a carved railing that overlooked the open rafters below. There were two closed doors, one on either side.

Elias eased into position beside her and nodded silently to the left door. Someone was inside, either asleep or keeping quiet. Judith squared up and reached for the knob.

The door creaked open to complete anticlimax. The candles in the room illuminated a prey species, with rounded ears and a long snout. They lay curled on the cot underneath a woven blanket, fast asleep. Judith half expected to hear snoring. She turned to shake her head at Elias and made to prod the woodworker awake.

And because she had relaxed at the sight of the harmless mammal, Judith was unprepared for something to explode from the shadows near the wardrobe, rising into her face so quickly it was a blur. The onslaught pushed her back off balance and into Elias behind her.

A ferret. He was a ferret, with sharp claws that ticked off Judith's armor and scrabbled on the wood floor. He ignored her shout of protest and ran for the open end of the hallway as fast as he could.

"You there! Stop!" She regained her footing and gave automatic chase, operating now more on trained reflex and gut instinct than common sense. No one ran from the Watch without good reason.

And so she had time to leap from the railing of the low loft to the workbench in the center of the mill, and down to the trapdoor where his brown tail had disappeared down a ladder, before her mind caught up and made her blood run cold. Elias had only sensed one presence in that room.

But it was too late to wait for him or Betner to catch up. She was already in among the tall crates and barrels that were like a maze, lit with faint flickering torchlight. Her quarry rounded a corner ahead and she charged after him.

It was a dead end. She realized it as soon as the ferret did, and when he whirled to face her she got her first good look at him.

He was scrawny, with wiry whiskers and thin lips drawn up from his sharp fangs. His clothing was piecemeal, unlike her orderly armor and cloak - but Judith certainly recognized the red cords bunched around his left shoulder. Was he armed? She couldn't tell, and it didn't mean much anyway if he could bring magic to bear.

"Hopps!"

"I have him!" She shouted back up toward the distant voice through the trapdoor. Betner's hooves pounded along the ceiling above her. "He's a bandit for sure. Check the rest of the cellar."

"Bleeding rabbit," he hissed, with a thin voice to match his thin appearance. "You ain't got nothing."

"Don't move." Judith took her glaive in a ready cross and took one step forward. "By the authority of the Council Watch, I'm placing you under arrest. Did you kill that worker?"

"That scare you?" His leer was all uneven teeth and malice. He was easing along the wall toward the corner, as far as he could get from her. "Yeah? 'Cause he ain't the first."

Murder. Murder, in the quiet forests and fields she'd grown up in. She raised her warning blade, and hoped it didn't show that his casual admission had set her stomach rolling. But of course it had. He wouldn't have said anything otherwise.

At least now she was in a position to make sure the awful act she'd witnessed was his last as a free mammal. "Who else did you kill, then?"

He merely laughed. It was a rasping sound like gravel.

"I said you're under arrest, bandit." Her heart was racing, pulling her breathing faster. "Stop where you are."

He eased into a crouch. "Or what?"

"Or the Watch will hunt you up and down this forest," she vowed. "Why did you do it?"

"Too stupid to get out of our way when he had the chance." His narrow yellow eyes glittered as he tilted his head. "Kinda like you."

Judith heard it even before she saw it - a rush like wind through a banner on the ramparts. She turned just in time to throw herself to one side, and narrowly avoided getting her muzzle scorched by the end of a long torch. The badger carrying it had somehow snuck up on her as she advanced into the dead end of crates.

She crashed against the nearest one so hard her breath went out, but she knew she had to get up right away. Two against one was trouble, and maybe more than she could chew.

But the ferret wasn't closing the distance. Instead he was scrambling past her to shove the badger aside and run down the nearest corridor. "Go!" he shouted. "Light it and go! She's torn it all."

With another whir the light was gone - but not for long. As the badger retreated he dragged the torch against the wood stacked around him, and the way the flames caught and licked at the wood Judith realized they had been treated with some sort of fuel. She'd run into a trap.

"Hopps!"

Beter's antlers framed in the trapdoor above her as she backed up from the flames. Already they were licking at the low ceiling above her, spreading as fast as they made new contact. The crackle was quickly becoming a rush, and then a roar.

"There are two down here at least," she shouted up to him. "The ferret said they'd killed someone else."

"Hopps, get out of there!"

But it was too late to leave the way she'd come. The fire had already reached the ladder. Even Betner had to cringe away from the roll of heat, and Judith knew she didn't have long down here, either. Now that the fire had burned up, it would start its way down the stacked wood toward her.

But no bandits would corner themselves in a burning basement. Even they weren't that stupid. Judith stepped closer into the scorching center of the room and her ears could feel it, over the waves of heat and sparks. Their escape route. There was an air current down here, rushing into her muzzle from the dark passage the others had disappeared down. She could still catch them.

"There's a tunnel here!" Could Betner still even hear her? She squinted down it, and realized it must have led to the other building she'd seen outside. "I can get out this way. Go to the barn! They'll have to come out there."

"Hopps, wait!"

But she was gone, leaping over the first cords of burning wood and running into the dark. Immediately it became easier to breathe, and the air chilled. It was like a bellows, concentrating the air like a blower against her smoking fur. No wonder the cellar had gone up so fast.

This smaller room was tiny, and deserted. Judith scrambled up the ladder, into the drifting flakes of snow the breeze blew into the barn. Now there were fresh prints by the door, leading into the forest. She followed.

The wind was frigid against her ears and bit in her lungs afer the burning vaults of the cellar. But at least the trees out here weren't about to come down around her ears and smother her underground. She would take it. She was aiming vaguely north, she thought, if the mill behind her that had started to burn like a beacon was any indication.

And from the compound around it her ears caught the familiar shrill call of a Sentinel's patrol whistle. Betner had made it out, then, and Elias. She trusted they would find the tracks and call the rest of the Watch to the chase. Now she just had to catch up.

But after just minutes of pelting through the trees, her glaive in one paw, she found that would be far easier said than done. The snow had become patchy under the tree cover, and worse there were more and more sets of tracks joining the traces she was depending on to find her way. This was deeper inside the treeline than she'd expected - and the far interior of the forests were lawless territory. The Watch didn't ever come this way. It had never had to, until now.

Now Judith padded to a stop, especially aware of the faint sounds her paws made in the exposed needle bed, and took careful stock. It sounded normal, for a forest. Wind rushed in the fir needles and rubbed the bare branches of deciduous trees together above her. There was no sign of movement through the trunks that spread in every direction. Still, Judith was careful not to turn in too many circles. The trees here stretched nearly a day's march south to the borders of Morrigan's Ford, from what she remembered of the maps she'd glimpsed at camp. It wasn't the sort of maze she wanted to get lost in.

Now that she'd paused, the cold had time to start its work on her exposed ears again, and it just accelerated the unease. It was bad enough she'd seen fit to run out this far alone. She'd left her backup behind, again. How many times had Fangmire growled that at her across the fire now? Worse, she was right in the middle of a narrow copse, a perfect defile to spring an ambush from any direction.

And it was as if her mind had willed the very threat into existence. Two more steps listening to the wind and she saw it - a flash of red, ducking between the trunks ahead and to her left. And in the same beat another sharp whistle filtered through the trees behind her. The Watch was closing in - but perhaps too late to help. There were more mammals out there, not the same bandits she'd chased out of the barn. These were taller. They had to be predators. And they had certainly noticed her reckless charge.

The whistle sounded again and she chanced it, turning to dash toward the prospect of backup before the mammals lurking out there had a chance to finish whatever net they were casting. They knew their ambush was thwarted, too - Judith heard a shout, and paws pounding though the snow and dirt behind her.

She ducked left and raced along a row of low bushes, then vaulted over a fallen log and ran for the cover of the taller trees ahead. The Watch's own line had to be getting close - the two-tone burst meant they were forming up for a sweep of their own. Her sensitive ears caught familiar voices nearby now, and the clank of armor and weapons.

But when Judith rounded the last tree, it was no Sentinel waiting for her. A massive hyena turned in surprise from where he had crouched to wait in ambush for someone else. He had an equally massive curved sword in his paw, so far gone to rust that it was almost impressive. Not that it mattered - focused as she was on her footing, Judith's own weapon was out of position for parrying. She scrambled backward and he lunged forward onto a boulder above her, with the scimitar raised to strike-

And with a hissing roar of fire and metal, a blazing sword met the blow above Judith's head and sheared the hyena's weapon clean in two. He staggered off balance.

Captain Fangmire didn't bother with a riposte - he just stepped forward with all his weight behind one pauldroned shoulder and rammed the snarling bandit square in the jaw. Judith heard something crunch, and the hyena went tumbling back into the snow. He didn't get up.

"Hopps, you're out of position." The tiger glared down at her in the ringing silence. "Again."

Judith climbed to her feet in his shadow, fighting for breath. He was seven feet tall, an enormous presence even before the armor or the steaming greatsword. She had never seen him wield it like this.

She had never seen him this angry, either, about her or bandits or anything. Static seemed to very nearly crackle from his exposed fur, and his fierce eyes demanded answers even more than usual when she craned up to meet them.

"I had to go after them," she said. "I was with Betner. We were checking the mill, and the bandits had killed someone. They torched the place-"

"They killed three," he corrected her. His teeth clicked around the words. "Not that you bothered to wait and find out."

A chill shot through her that had nothing to do with snowdrift she'd fallen into. She had suspected. But she had still hoped she'd been wrong. "That ferret had a back door out of the cellar where I had him cornered," Judith said. "I couldn't just let him escape. And he can't have gone far. We can still catch him."

"None of that justifies pursuit without backup," Fangmire growled, and waved his free paw. "Not with this forest the way it is, Hopps. Look around."

No more muffled winter landscape, this. Now the gully was poised to be a battlefield. Great watchmammals were pounding through the snow, hurrying to establish their new perimeter and find cover among the thick treetrunks, waving archers into position. Smoke from the burning mill palled through the upper branches. Betner and Elias had caught up. When they caught sight of Judith conversing with the Captain, their muzzles darkened.

And somewhere out in the forest, where Judith would never be able to get a perfect fix on it, a strident hunting horn echoed. Another answered, further off, and another. Now the bandit rearguard knew to be ready for another skirmish. The Watch would run its sweeping wedge through the valley, and it would likely have to fight every step of the way.

An arrow hissed out of the wind and into the undergrowth. Fangmire reached out with a massive paw to shepherd her further behind his bulk, and hefted his greatsword higher with the other. His magic rekindled fire from nowhere along its length.

The Watch started its slow push. The harrassment came on, but no arrows found their mark. The bandits somewhere ahead of them in the trees were clearly more concerned with staying ahead, than holding the ground for long. Cowards. Cowards just like the ferret who had run from his crimes.

They'd even abandoned their camp, Judith saw as they passed the open space by. A fire ring still crackled, until one of the passing Watchmammals threw snow on it. If this kept up, they might push the bandits all the way to the south hills. They'd be cornered in the steeper rocks.

"Captain!"

It was Elias. He waved their attention toward the thicker trees to their right. "There!"

Judith turned and had to duck again when another attack came whistling from the shadows. The bandits hadn't abandoned the place entirely, then - they'd just ceded the open ground of the clearing so they could pick off anyone who wasn't in cover. Smart. Too smart, for this kind of rabble.

She could see them now, three wolves and a rough-looking deer in a tight grouping, two with spears and two nocking hunting shortbows for a second volley.

"Make ready!" Fangmire roared down the line.

Judith prepared to charge with him, her duty chasing out the fear. With the whole echelon responding, surely these bandits would be outmatched and quickly subdued.

But Fangmire held his ground and slashed up at the massive fir tree above them. His burning blade sliced through the trunk in a single effortless stroke and brought it thundering down. Twenty feet of densely packed needles provided instant cover from the archers - and also forced Judith to spring back from their passage. She smelled scorched sap.

"Captain! What-?"

"Stay down, Hopps," he said, and turned back to the rest. "Now!"

The wolves had moved. With their line of sight fouled, they had gone left to swing wide around the tree. Judith squinted through the fragrant branches, bewildered. It would bring them back into the open, yes, but for what?

A second later, she had her answer. The ground shook, as a trio of armored rhinos charged through the low brush and through the clearing, sending snow and winter berries exploding aside.

Any tactical advantage the bandits might have enjoyed was still no match for the sheer combined scale of the Council Watch. The rush caught the rearguard party flat-pawed. They turned to run and now a Watch call sounded the general charge.

Judith did her best to keep up. She knew they wouldn't catch them, even with the element of surprise back on their side. The wolves were already disappearing into the gloom of the trees. Still, Fangmire's quick thinking had at least kept his Sentinels from getting bogged down in a dangerous fight. They could finish their push through this arm of the forest, and hopefuly round up any of the bandits who were less fleet of paw for questioning.

Another shadow detached itself from the treeline as the last of the wolves passed. It was a mammal in a lightweight hooded cloak, without Watch pauldrons, but they were clearly not on his side. He turned to meet them, but they were already inside the warning wave of his spear. They sent the weapon spinning into the snow with a blur of paws, and then a curious thing - they jabbed stiffened fingers in strikes too fast to follow and the wolf suddenly collapsed as if dead.

But he wasn't dead - at least not yet. As they pounded up, Judith could hear his labored panting over even her own. It sounded like he was in excruciating pain.

The mammal pushed their broad hood back. It was Marki, the snow leopard who led the Watch scout regiment. Judith eyed her victim with a strange new fascination. She had never seen the cat's particular abilities on display like this. It seemed he couldn't even move to get his nose out of the dirt.

"Thank you, sergeant," Fangmire rumbled. He extinguished his sword with a thought and crouched down so he would be closer to eye level with all of them. "Quick thinking. At least we won't have to chase the whole bunch until nightfall."

Marki inclined her muzzle.

"What sign of their path now?" Fangmire asked.

"Tracks in the snow a half-day's march southwest."

"Then Morrigan's Ford is next after all." Judith felt his growl more than she heard it. He was scowling down at the immobile bandit. "I knew this was bound to get worse. Find Betner and Murow and bring them here."

"Yes, Captain." Marki drew her hood back up and vanished into the trees, making slightly less noise than the flakes that still swirled around them.

"They won't attack the village." Even after the horrors she had witnessed today, Judith didn't believe any bandits would be that reckless. Morrigan's Ford was the center of most local trade; it had thick walls and a Watch presence second only to the Keep to the north.

"We can't put anything past the bandits now, Hopps. We never thought they would make it as far as Tallin, or that they would even bother Aspenweir. We paid for it."

"The garrison-"

"The garrison is mostly out here," Fangmire pointed out. His eyes flashed down at their new prisoner. "You'll remember we were trying to seal this up before it became the village's problem in the first place."

"Then we continue the sweep? This one could tell us where the rest are hiding out here. We can find the ferret that was at the mill."

"No. They will have moved on anyway, just as before." Fangmire shook his slow head and stood to his full height again, sliding his sword into its sling on his back. "Now we'll have to split the force to defend the walls. Every moment we're out here fighting rabble on their own ground their friends cover more distance. You'll go back with the others to cut them off."

The last thing Judith wanted to do was return to the sleepy village when there was actual peacekeeping to do out here in the woods. She stumbled through the enormous prints his paws left behind. "But Sir, I saw him. I know who we're looking for."

"And in your haste to apprehend him, you've pulled the whole regiment further ahead than we planned." His voice sharpened as he rounded on her. "Perhaps pushed our quarry into new action of their own. A single ferret certainly won't be the only one ready to kill now. Did you consider that, Hopps?"

"No." The shame burned in her ears, because he was right. She hadn't thought of how the pursuit would affect even Betner or Elias, much less the rest of the Watch. She'd seen the opportunity to put a stop to wrongdoing, and seized it. Just... not well enough.

"It's past time you started. For the sake of your companions, and for the sake of those we're sworn to protect." He sighed and turned to lead the way back into the clearing, striped tail lashing. "We'll speak about this more when lives don't hang in the balance. Come with me."

Marki was on her way back, still nearly impossible to make out against the dappled snow even when she was in the open. She had Murow the hippopotamus and Betner's familiar antlers in tow. Fangmire gave swift orders, to take a half score and Judith back to bolster the Watch presence at the village. Betner looked between her and their captain, but like the good officer he was he held his tongue and listened to Fangmire's plan.

"Marki will escort you out," Fangmire said. He caught her eye and tilted his head back toward the treeline. "But before you go, unfreeze the one you caught for us. I'd rather not have to carry him."

She nodded.

Now, Betner seemed to trust that he wouldn't have to say anything. He swung his antlers in a curt arc. _Move out._

Judith trudged ahead, bearing south toward the road that would take them back to the walls of Morrigan's Ford and home. Orders or no, she still felt as if she were leaving her responsibility behind in the drifts, unfulfilled.

Somewhere behind them, a wolf howled in pain as he regained proper control of his lungs. Judith winced.

Fangmire would be right. He always was. The conflict they'd tried to stamp out was about to arrive on their own doorstep. Morrigan's Ford could well need every pair of trained paws in the coming days.

And that duty gradually quickened Judith's feet, pushing through the deepening snow. She couldn't bear the thought of killers like the one she'd chased from the burning mill running unchallenged in the markets and gardens of home. She knew what they were capable of now.

And something in her knew that no matter where she was, she might be the only one to keep this wrongness from spreading any further.


	3. prologue - Sedgewick

He made better time the further south the river wound. This country was not as bound by ice and snow, and the waterway was clear of bergs and flowed with a favorable current. The water even tasted different on his tongue. The forest that bordered each side of the river was rich and more varied than the lands to the north, and home to more mammals. It was a farming country, with rich soil and traces of industry.

The broad river would carry a lone otter all the way to its delta, in the far south where the ground leveled and the mangroves spread over countless acres. But he didn't expect to make it that far. Whatever he'd sensed all those days ago, whatever he'd followed - it was closer than ever. Foreboding was a scratching at the base of his skull.

It was time to leave the water.

He swam with strong paws to the edge of the current, and paused in the shallows against the snow-dusted logs to watch and wait for a sign. The chill pricked at the damp on exposed fur but he paid the sensation no mind. He was more concerned with the beating pain he could feel in the settlement on the next rise, reaching him as if on the wind. This was no accident, he knew. Something evil had visited the fishing huts that looked over these terraced fields - something stronger and more focused than the unsettling tide that clouded everything in this valley.

Bandits, he thought. For days now he'd seen their influence, if never the perpetrators themselves. Most of it he'd passed by. Some of it manifested as injured mammals he could help. Of one thing, he was certain - whatever call he was following hadn't sounded just to him. It was bound to lead to confrontation. Perhaps-

The magic blasted straight into his mind, and it carried death.

He swayed in the shallows and went to all fours with a faint splash. A hundred mammals had winked out in an instant, and he felt every one of them leave. So sudden was the onslaught that he didn't realize at first that it hadn't come from the buildings above him but from further southwest, over the next hills.

He struggled back to his feet to see light dancing against the low clouds. Loops of golden energy flickered and jagged, leaving stark silhouettes behind. Behind them rolled thunder, like a glacier of ice sundering down the middle.

And he could feel its pull, even from miles away. And what power, to carry this far! It captivated not just his attention but his mind, with an overwhelming, sickening curiosity. He longed to feel its warmth again, to surrender to its ease and attraction...

Even now the resonances sang in the trees and set birds to involuntary flight. The flutter of nearby wings startled him back to himself. He scrambled fully onto dry land, in case the water became a conduit, and pulled the staff from his back to grasp it in both paws. Time was precious now.

_Shelter. For body, and for mind._ He closed his eyes and focused, summoning the patterns and sensations that he could shape into protection, tapping his claws on his staff in half-forgotten rhythms to hasten his spellcraft. He had come too far now to fall to what he now suspected was the same power that had hollowed out the far peaks so long ago. And if unbound magic had finally come to this gentle country, more mammals would surely need his help.

He could feel that urge already, pulling him to the summit of the ridge. He moved as quick as he could up the tiers of carefully tended soil, avoiding the pristine snow where he could but trusting that where he could not, he would leave no tracks to follow. He could feel the pain growing as he approached. The mammals here would have noticed the calamity now, even if there were no predators among them. He knew they would react as he had - by their own will, or otherwise.

He slipped through the carved gateway stones and found the darkest corner he could to wait. It wasn't hard. The night seemed darker now, for the absence of the blinding light from the south. Only the remains of a fire borne of conflict burned somewhere in the structures, patchy and unfocused.

And the first silhouette, when it came, might have been accidental. He might have missed it, had he not known to look for the mammals that fell thrall to the magic.

There they stood, a wolf in a patchwork of brown and garish red clothing. A marauder, one of the bandits. Their ears and muzzle were turned south, as if casting around in the distance. They hovered in the firelight for a moment, and then began a stumbling walk away from the buildings and down into the open fields and the riverwend. The otter felt an uneasy chill. That mage's mind - and power - were no longer her own. She would walk day and night now, following the call.

And he could not interfere. Unbound magic did not feel or reason. The more he exposed himself to it now, the more risk he himself would be in. Better to watch and wait, until he had the chance to help or move on.

Because he would move on, eventually. Whether he wanted to or not.

He could hear sharp, arguing voices now, in one of the sturdier barns ahead. He crept onto the road and advanced.

_"-And what's to say you won't turn next? I don't believe it. Dumas outranked you-"_

_"And she found she had pressing business elsewhere. Or didn't you notice?"_

_"Shut up. If she's really gone, then I'm in charge again. And I say we're going. The other way."_

The fire had burned up one side of the barn he was passing now, only reduced to a lazy smolder where it had encountered the cold snow on the roof. None had tried to stop it. And indeed the rest of the hamlet seemed deserted. Mammals must have fled the conflict.

The ruined doorway creaked and collapsed in a shower of sparks. He paused in its frame, senses stretched to their limit. The muffled argument continued unabated.

_"My work isn't finished."_

_"Do you even hear yourself? You think you're some sort of mage, listening to the voices in your head? It's a bounty. I gave you your proof. Kill her and be done with it."_

There was a muffled snarl.

_"And where will that leave you, Scura? To explain how you disobeyed orders not a day after you received them? You've made this hard enough with your blundering already."_

_"I ain't dragging her across the countryside. Not after this. It's different now."_

_"Then here. Do it yourself, since you're prepared for the consequences. Or shall I tie her muzzle shut again first?"_

He crept around the corner and stopped short.

An enormous mammal lay dying in the dirt before the barn door. A bear, the otter identified him, in the familiar patterned jerkin that marked him as a local. A dark stain spread in the dust beneath his head. The shattered shaft of an arrow or perhaps a spear was lodged in the base of his skull. His eyes were sunken and dim, and slid quickly away. The otter felt the beating pain roll over him as if it were his own.

He listened with half an ear to the argument, and just as quickly discarded the risk. Someone needed his help. He lay his staff down and reached out to place both paws on the larger mammal's head. The bear's eyes closed.

He sought the pain, which blossomed behind his own brow with a ferocity that nearly made him cry out. Right away he knew it was too much, too late to change now. But he could lessen it. He could draw it out and ease this mammal's suffering.

He breathed in and out. His paws warmed and with each breath the agony diminished - for him, and for his charge. Now the bear's breathing deepened and slowed, too. He would still pass, and soon. But at least now it would be more peaceful.

_"She will die. You know I'll see to that myself. But you don't get to decide when. That's up to Boss."_

The voices had sharpened again, closer now to the doors.

_"If you think this stupid game of yours is worth the risk, then you can play it yourself."_ Claws scraped in the dirt. _"Moren and I are leaving. Now."_

The otter stayed where he was, moving only to take his staff in one paw again. There was nowhere to hide himself away anyway. If there was to be confrontation, he would have to accept it here and now.

The side door banged open and a ferret in bandit's trappings stalked out. He had but to turn to his right to see the otter crouched to his work - but instead, like the wolf before, he stopped in the clearing between the buildings and stared at the horizon where the magic had so recently raged.

After a beat the ferret started southwest. The otter suspected his wits were still about him, but it didn't seem to matter. He went all the same.

A hulking badger followed in silence, and then a coyote with a calculating scowl and a longbow in his paws, whose lanky frame filled the rough-hewn doorway when he stopped on the threshold to stare back into the darkness.

But eventually he, too, gave a quiet growl and turned followed his companions. The barn might have been deserted then, had the otter not still felt the pain of whoever lingered inside.

When he entered he smelled entrails and smoke, cloying and thick in the enclosed space. His eyes adjusted and he found another bear, lashed to the stout uprights with thick ropes and its head - her head - bowed heavy between them. Another mammal lay crumpled in the corner among the scattered tools and remains of a smith's brazier. The bandit was clearly dead, and seemingly by the bear's paw - or more accurately, her teeth.

The timbers groaned and she looked up at him. Again he held out his paw, because as he stretched out with his more esoteric senses he suspected she would not have been able to answer him, even if he had spoken. It wasn't just the bandit's blood dripping from her panting muzzle. She had been injured, too, perhaps grievously.

He laid his staff on the ground between them to extend both paws. He hoped that even without words exchanged the meaning would be clear. But would she accept his help?

He let her close the distance, as much as her bonds allowed. When his clawtips finally brushed her cheek and the cause of her pain focused in his mind's eye, he felt his stomach clench and had to fight not to let it show in his expression. He didn't have to see to know - she would never speak again.

Nor, in that cold moment, did she need to. He didn't need magic to see the fear and the loss on her face, any more than she needed it to read in his own eyes what he had seen on the ground outside.

He shivered, as he reached out with his magic to stem the blood, to close her awful wounds. He despaired, as the pain in her expression faded, underneath something new - something colder and far more dangerous. He knew what it meant, before he had even finished his work, and he knew he would have to accept it.

For all the good he might do out here - for all the suffering he felt compelled to ease and death he knew he could help avert-

There were some things even he would never be able to heal.


End file.
